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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275948">Memories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lochness_Monster/pseuds/The_Lochness_Monster'>The_Lochness_Monster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Day 1: Hospital, F/F, fleurmioneweek2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,936</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lochness_Monster/pseuds/The_Lochness_Monster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When they had first met, and indeed for several weeks afterwards, Fleur was indifferent at best, and rude at worst. She had been amidst the most difficult time of her life, and for that, Hermione had given a leeway she was normally loath to grant.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Fleurmione Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 1! I wrote this last night/today so... sorry. D:</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Fleur was quite comfortable. She lay in bed, her body draped against the side of Hermione’s. Her right arm was wrapped around the other woman’s waist, while her right leg slotted between Hermione’s. She nestled her head further into the chest she was resting on. An arm tightened around her back and pulled her closer. Fleur dropped a kiss at the base of the hollow of Hermione’s neck. The brunette reached over with her left arm and began to lazily stroke Fleur’s hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good morning.” Fleur whispered, her voice still hoarse from sleep.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“morni-” Hermione’s response was interrupted by a yawn that she covered with the hand that had been running through Fleur’s hair. “-ng”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tired?” Fleur said, amused.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“A bit. I had the best dream.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh? Was I in it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Of course you were.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur hummed in contentment. She lifted her head up to chastity press her lips against Hermione’s before settling back down on the woman’s chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What happened in it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was just like the first time we met. Except that Tilly was an actual monkey in my dream, and Nurse Carter was Mrs. Potato head, for some reason.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur snorted. “Tilly was an actual monkey in all but appearance.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione moved her hand to softly scratched up and down Fleur’s back. “Maybe we should visit her next week.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That would be nice.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione dropped a kiss to the top of Fleur’s head. “Do you remember that day?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The day we met?” She shifted her body upwards to meet Hermione’s eyesight, now resting her head on the pillow instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was one of the worst days of my life.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione gave her a sad smile. “I didn’t think anything special was going to happen that day."</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can you tell me about it? What the day was like for you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione raised her eyebrow. “I’ve told you before.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur pouted, her lower lip sticking out and her brows furrowed. “But I want to hear it again.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione, who had known from the moment Fleur had first asked that she was going to tell the story, acquiesced to the request.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I spoil you.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yes, but you love me all the same.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione reached her hand up to cup Fleur’s jaw. “With all my heart. Now, it was a particularly uninteresting Friday afternoon….”</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione was a creature of habit. Every Friday afternoon at precisely 2:52pm she exited her car parked on the fifth floor of the parking garage, descended the stairwell that always smelled of mildew, walked past the old advertisement for the last world cup that was two summers prior, and crossed the street to University College Hospital on Euston.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She strode into the Hospital with an air of confidence that came with knowing exactly where you were going and how to get there. She knew the path by heart. It was familiar. More than familiar. As she passed, doctors, nurses, and orderlies gave her warm smiles and asked after her with a genuine interest that could not be faked. It was because of this that it always took her longer than was strictly necessary to walk from the entrance to the third floor oncology ward.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Eventually, she reached the ward, stopped in front of the entrance, and washed her hands in the large sink directly next to the ward. She was looking down when she heard a small voice from behind her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hermione! You’re here!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A girl, no older than 5, was standing directly behind Hermione clutching an IV pole. She exuded excitement, in fact, Hermione was sure the girl was vibrating. The woman dropped to one knee to match the girl’s height.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tilly! I am, silly. Just like I was here last week, and the week before that, and the week before that!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And now you’re here! I missed you!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I missed you too, sweetheart. Now, what are you doing out here monkey?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A nurse burst through the ward doors looking around frantically, before calming upon spotting the girl with Hermione. She spoke in a reprimanding tone.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tilly. I told you we could wait for Hermione but only if you stayed in your seat. Come, now.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tilly looked bashful. She snuck a glance up towards Hermione, who had risen back to her feet upon the nurse’s appearance, her eyes were large and pleading. Hermione chuckled.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Let’s both go in, alright?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She extended a hand towards the girl, who clung with a tiny, frail hand that was dwarfed evenby Hermione’s notoriously small one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The trio went through the doors.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hermione, it’s nice to see you again.” The nurse said as they walked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You too, Mrs. Carter.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The nurse shook her head in disapproval. “I must have told you a hundred times to call me June.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And I must have told you a hundred times that I would rather retake my A levels than do that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You and I both know that you would probably enjoy that.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tilly tugged on Hermione’s hand to grab her attention. “Can I sit next to the pretty lady?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had removed her hand from the IV stand to motion to a woman seated by herself at the end of the row of chairs; three empty seats separated her from the rest of the room. The woman had her head bowed, her pin straight, platinum blonde hair was gathered against her far side shoulder, creating a backdrop for her face. What a face it was. Pretty was ill sufficient to describe the woman. “Pretty” invoked images of the girl next store, or the waitress at your favorite restaurant, neither of whom would have held a candle to the woman sitting in the plush chair with her back ramrod straight and staring with contempt at the IV stuck to her arm. This woman was nothing short of beautiful.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione glanced over to Nurse Carter, who shrugged indifferently.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sure monkey, lead the way.” Hermione said with a bright smile, and followed the girl who had begun to drag Hermione by the arm with a surprising show of strength the second Hermione had answered in the affirmative.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione’s eyes, as they always did here, found the small heart etched into the wall with a pen, directly above the forth to last chair that had been Ginny’s. That chair, there, had been where her best friend had withered away until all that was left was a hollowed out shell who welcomed death like an old friend and followed him without complaint or hesitation. It had been where Hermione resolved to help others like her friend, even if the help was as simple as retrieving an extra blanket, or providing a sympathetic ear. For two years, Hermione had volunteered every Friday and Sunday afternoon from 3-7pm. Those had been the hardest days for Ginny. No one wanted to watch their sick friend or family receive treatment, especially before a Friday night out, or during their last hours of freedom before the work week.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">As they passed, some of the other patients called out in greeting. Hermione waved back at them with her free hand. Their disruption had caused the woman at the end of the row to look up, a scowl plastered across her face as she looked at the approaching trio.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ms. Delacour, can I get you anything else?” Nurse Carter said. Hermione noted that her normally warm voice sounded strained. It was still polite, but lacked the sincerity that Hermione had come to associate with the other woman’s voice.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Non.” The woman said with a huff.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Tilly, who was paying no mind to the conversation of the adults, was attempting to climb onto the seat without letting go of Hermione’s hand. This proved to be a task of the utmost difficulty. Nevertheless, Tilly was a tenacious girl, and so performed a series of hops, wiggles, and what, if you were to ask Hermione, were Cirque du Soleil level contortions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once Tilly was settled, Nurse Carter checked over her IV pole before twisting the switch to allow the Paclitaxel to run down the thin tube. Tilly sighed at the sight.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Tilly, love? Where’s your mom?” Hermione asked.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bathroom.” She said disinterestedly. Tilly turned to the blonde woman and asked, “Is this your first time here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Nurse Carter sighed, gave Hermione’s shoulder a squeeze in apology, and walked away, clearly not interested in witnessing the conversation about to occur.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oui.” The woman’s voice was surprisingly soft. Hermione was quite sure why, but she had expected the woman to speak brusquely.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Je m'appelle Tilly.” Tilly stumbled over the pronunciation, but ended the introduction with a brilliant smile that caused the woman to give her one in kind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Bonjour Tilly. Je m'appelle Fleur.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m not sure how to introduce other people. Ms. Andersen said last month that we would learn how in January, but now it’s April!” She paused for a moment to give the proper dramatics the betrayal required. “This is Hermione. She’s my best friend!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione gave her a small wave. “Hi.” She tacked on, “Ms. Andersen is Tilly’s teacher,” by way of explanation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“'ello ‘ermione.”</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That first hello I knew I was done for.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur snorted: something that Hermione of once would never have guessed the other woman, for all her grace and poise, was capable of doing. This Hermione knew better. It had been years since she that day, and Hermione had learned a great number of things about Fleur; the fact that the woman snorted was only a drop in the ocean Hermione’s expertise.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">When they had first met, and indeed for several weeks afterwards, Fleur was indifferent at best, and rude at worst. She had been amidst the most difficult time of her life, and for that, Hermione had given a leeway she was normally loath to grant.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It had been a long road for Fleur to accept the unfairness of her diagnosis for what it was: an unfairness. It was out of her control. There wasn’t a thing she could about it. Despite this, after she had heard that she had stage 3 breast cancer, she had certainly done everything she could to fight it. She had researched all the treatment alternatives. She cleaned up her diet. She looked up survival rates. She found the best treatment hospital. But then, on that first day she met Hermione, she sat in an oversized, vinyl chair that smelled of bleach, no different from all the others in the room.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Aren’t you charming this morning. It isn’t a special day is it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Hermione tapped her chin with her index finger, her face scrunched up in concentration.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“A normal day, I should think. Although I do think there’s something we need to do later. Can’t put my finger on what it is though.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur suddenly rolled over to straddle Hermione’s hips. She leaned down so that her hair served as curtain around them, and bracketed her hands on either side of Hermione’s head. Hermione reached up instinctively to grab Fleur’s waist.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can’t put your finger on it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe you can remind me?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Fleur closed the distance between them, pulling Hermione into a deep kiss as she gently rocked her hips against the other woman. Hermione in turn pulled down on her waist to match Fleur’s pitches.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After a few minutes, Fleur suddenly pulled away.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I just remembered.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh?” Hermione said, somewhat breathlessly, as her chest rose and fell heavily.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It involves you, me, an alter, and a ring.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ah that’s right.” She said through a grin that lit up her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And you, chérie, will no longer be Ms. Granger.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Mrs. Hermione Delacour certainly has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Technically it's still sept 3 for me... so this counts, right?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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